Out of Time
by Zathara001
Summary: Updated 7.31.19 - ENDGAME Spoilers (but, honestly, hasn't everyone seen the movie by now?). Steve returns the Stones.


I can't do a summary because of spoilery spoiling ENDGAME SPOILERS. (This is why I don't usually write fic for super-current things.) You have been warned.

As always, any rights in this work are hereby given to Disney, Marvel, and whomever else may own the copyright.

Returning the Infinity Stones was … not trivial, exactly, but certainly anti-climactic.

First, and most difficult, Steve returned the Soul Stone to Vormir, where Natasha's body wouldn't even have cooled when he landed. Fortunately - or maybe not, he wasn't certain - he didn't have to see the body. Clint had told him about the mountain and the cliff, and … Schmidt. The Red Skull.

"I would never have expected you to come here, Steven son of Sarah," Schmidt said.

"I never expected me to come here," Steve countered.

"If you seek the Soul Stone, you must sacrifice what you love most, a soul for a soul."

"I'm not here for the stone. I'm here to return it." Steve didn't add that he'd already sacrificed more than most people would ever understand, that his very existence in the twenty-first century was a sacrifice.

Schmidt's eyes widened. "I had not expected that." Then his eyes narrowed. "You know Clint son of Edith and Natasha daughter of Ivan."

"My comrades. My friends." Steve opened the case containing the Infinity Stones and withdrew the Soul Stone.

"You have five of the Stones." Schmidt sounded almost awed. "You have five of the Stones, more power than any being could imagine, and you … what are you doing with them?"

"Returning them to their proper places." Steve snapped the case closed and took the few steps that brought him to the edge of the cliff.

With a breath, he looked down, down, and saw Natasha's broken body. Tears welled in his eyes.

"We won, Natasha," he murmured. "Thanks to your sacrifice. It was my honor to fight beside you, my pleasure to be your friend. I - we all - miss you."

He let the Soul Stone fall from his hand, watching as it glittered all the way down until it landed on Natasha's chest and a golden glow spread out from the stone, surrounding Natasha's body, growing brighter and brighter until Steve was forced to close his eyes against it.

When the glow faded, Steve opened his eyes and wasn't entirely surprised to find that both the Stone and Natasha's body had vanished.

Steve wiped the tears from his eyes. "_Requiescet in pace_."

When he turned away from the cliff, Schmidt was looking at him oddly.

"What?"

"I was wrong, all those years ago," Schmidt said. "We are not alike. I could not have resisted the temptation of the Stones."

Any number of sarcastic responses could have made their way from Steve's mind to his mouth, but this moment wasn't for that. This moment was for honesty.

"Because you never had something to die for," Steve said. "So you never knew what to live for."

He didn't know what he'd expected Schmidt to say or do in the wake of that declaration, but it certainly wasn't Schmidt's slow nod, his expression thoughtful.

"Perhaps," Schmidt said finally. "Go in peace, Steven son of Sarah."

Which was an odd blessing, especially given their last meeting, but Steve would have to be an idiot not to realize that things had changed, that both he and Schmidt had changed, if in different ways, since that last meeting.

After Vormir, returning the Power Stone to Morag was almost insultingly easy. The door to the chamber that held it still stood open, and inside it the pillar that had contained the stone was bathed in a gentle spotlight. Rhodey had warned him of the laser-like security screen built within the pillar, so Steve rolled the sphere containing the Power Stone onto the display base, using just enough force to get it to move.

The sphere had barely breached the containment space when the lasers reactivated. Some other apparatus must have activated, too, because the sphere floated into the exact center of the display cage and hung there, suspended, until Quill arrived to steal it.

Quill - Steve had to get back to him, return his lockpick - sure, Nebula had used some long technobabble name for it, but it was a lockpick - and start to revive him before anyone else arrived.

That was quickly done, and Steve barely got behind cover before Quill was rubbing his head, wondering aloud what had happened.

_You wouldn't believe me if I told you._ Steve couldn't help smiling at the man's enthusiasm, undimmed by his "fainting spell," as he sang and danced his way to the door Steve had so recently re-locked.

"Keep that joy, Quill," Steve murmured aloud. "It'll serve you well."

Where Vormir and Morag had been desolate places Steve was happy to leave behind him, he could have spent a lifetime on Asgard, soaking in and drawing the beauty he saw around him.

But he spared only a moment to take in its majestic glory before reminding himself he was on a mission.

Rocket's directions were as thorough as they were filled with profanity, and, thanks to a hooded cloak concealing his uniform, Steve made his way to Jane Foster's quarters unchallenged.

It helped that the guards were looking for a racoon or other small animal rather than a person.

Simple and direct, he reminded himself. There was no way he could be as sneaky as Rocket, and even trying to be sneaky right now would be suicidal, if the expressions on the guards' faces were anything to go by.

Fortunately, there was a group of people milling about, some guarding Dr. Foster, some apparently searching for clues, and some … well, if they were on Earth, Steve would think they were basking in the opportunity to have been a part of something, however insignificant or tangential that part might be. These were Asgardians, though, and Steve doubted the same motives applied.

Still, he was able to use the confusion to get close to Foster, which was all he needed. A stumble that sent him bumping into her, a quick press of the device Rocket had given him against her shoulder, and a murmured apology were all it took to have him backing away and heading for the door.

But he had one more delivery to make on Asgard.

It wouldn't do to carry Thor's hammer around in plain sight, so he'd left Mjolnir where he landed - an out-of-the way niche in what passed for an alley on Asgard.

Now, finding a spot near a window of the palace, Steve held out his hand and summoned Mjolnir.

He'd always known, since that party at Avengers Tower, that he _could_ lift Mjolnir, if it was ever necessary. That Mjolnir moved at all, much less so easily, when he tried to lift it had confirmed his "worthiness," whatever that meant in this context.

But it had never been necessary for him to wield Mjolnir until Thanos, and for that he was immensely, eternally grateful. He was also grateful that he had some instinctive or perhaps mystic understanding of how to command and control the hammer when the time came.

Carrying a hammer out of myth and legend was such a thrill that he didn't even mind - much - that Thor hadn't let him carry Stormbreaker more than that moment when both weapons had returned to them as they stood side by side, brothers in war.

Now, he would return Mjolnir to Asgard so it could meet its final destiny. If he could figure out where Thor had summoned it from on his trip to the past with Rocket.

The hum of power he associated with Mjolnir grew stronger, even as he heard the low whistle of air parting around it as it soared to him. A moment later, Mjolnir slapped into his palm.

"So," Steve murmured, more to himself than to the hammer he stared at. "What am I supposed to do with you now?"

"Return it where it rightly belongs," came Thor's voice, "after you explain who you are and how you can possibly be worthy of Mjolnir."

"I came here to return it." Steve turned to Thor, who stalked toward him, and offered Mjolnir.

That seemed to startle Thor, though he took Mjolnir without hesitation. "I thank you - but how came you to have Mjolnir at all?"

"We'll trade war stories sometime." Steve pushed back the hood of his cloak and almost laughed aloud at Thor's expression. _Flabbergasted_ would be an apt description.

"Captain?" Thor sounded thoroughly bemused. "How -?"

"I can't tell you. Just - thanks. Oh, and can you see this gets back to its rightful owner? I had to borrow it."

He shrugged off the cloak he'd been wearing and held it out to Thor.

"Surely." Thor hesitated. "And you can tell me nothing?"

"Nothing that wouldn't be a risk," Steve clarified. "Not yet."

"Sometime?" Thor asked.

"Sometime." It was an easy agreement to make. "I have to go."

"Farewell, Captain. I look forward to sharing stories."

Steve grinned and touched the control that would activate his timesuit and send him back into the quantum realm and then to New York in 2012.

Returning the Mind Stone was as simple as putting the scepter down beside his past self's unconscious body - once Steve got _to_ said unconscious body past the SHIELD agents and the past versions of Thor and Tony Stark.

Tony. It still hurt, knowing that Howard's son would never call him _Capsicle_ or _Spangles_ or any other nickname that could have been derogatory if it weren't for the respect, even affection, underlying the words. But Steve would be damned before he'd let Tony's sacrifice be for nothing, so he changed into SHIELD black fatigues and strode through the tower like he belonged there.

Which, of course, he _did_, except for the time he'd been a fugitive from an unconstitutional accord. But the Sokovia Accords were in tattered shambles in the wake of Thanos, and if Secretary Ross tried to reinstitute them, he'd be facing a very angry public, not to mention a pissed off king of Wakanda, Sorcerer Supreme, and Pepper Potts Stark. Steve honestly wasn't sure which of the three was most terrifying.

Steve placed the scepter where his past self would find it, clapped himself on the shoulder because what else could he do besides stare at America's ass again, and that would be too weird for words.

Twenty minutes of brisk walking brought Steve to 177A Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even began its downward motion.

Steve accepted the unspoken invitation and stepped into the dim interior. The door closed behind him, and he stood still while his eyes adjusted to the interior light.

The first thing he saw was a red cloak floating in the air before him. If Steve were honest with himself, it wasn't as intimidating or awe-inspiring as it might have been before the Infinity Stones.

"Hello," Steve said, and marveled that he didn't feel like an idiot to be speaking to an inanimate object. "I'm here to return something borrowed from the Sorceress Supreme."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain," a female voice came from above him, and he looked up to see a bald woman wearing mustard yellow robes at the top of the stairs across from the door. "Though I confess I was expecting Dr. Banner."

"He was injured in the fight," Steve said. "But he sends his regards, and his thanks."

"And you? What do you bring?"

"My thanks, and the Time Stone." Steve balanced the case on one arm, opened it with his other hand. He'd barely gotten the lid up an inch before the Time Stone floated out of the case and rocketed across the room.

The sorceress gestured with both hands and the medallion she wore opened. Seconds later, the medallion closed around the Time Stone.

"I see you've only the Space Stone left."

Steve didn't ask how she could possibly know that, since the case had been between them the whole time and had, presumably, shielded her view. Instead, he simply nodded.

"May I ask why you chose that one for last?"

"Because of all the stones, I'll have the most trouble returning it." It wasn't a lie, exactly; it just wasn't the complete truth.

The sorceress smiled. "Then I wish you luck in your journey. Is there any assistance I can offer?"

Steve's first instinct was to refuse, but he shut his mouth as soon as he opened it and considered her offer carefully. Finally, he smiled.

"And what assistance is that?" The sorceress gave him a smile as enigmatic as his own must've been.

"Just - destroy this for me."

Steve removed the Space Stone - now safely contained in the Tesseract - from the case he'd brought with him and offered the case to the sorceress. She took it, raising one eyebrow in inquiry.

"It's one less thing to have to keep track of," Steve said. "I needed it to carry the Stones, but I can carry one stone just fine. The case is of a design and materials that will be out of place where I'm going next, so I can't risk losing it or leaving it behind accidentally."

"You are thorough."

"I have to be."

"Your instincts are sound, but I have a better idea."

Camp Lehigh was in an uproar.

Steve wasn't surprised; he'd heard the agent in the elevator talking with the MPs, after all, and he'd known then that the Space Stone would be one of the most difficult to return. Nothing screwed over a perfectly good plan better than a military base on high alert - especially when that base was the home of a top secret agency.

And nothing would attract more attention than someone trying to sneak through that hive of activity.

So he walked right up to the gate, hands loosely at his sides, in all of what Tony Stark would've called his star-spangled, red, white, and blue glory.

To their credit, the MPs on duty barely did double-takes before they had weapons leveled at him.

"Fellas," Steve said pleasantly. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I'm here to tell Peggy Carter and Howard Stark just how lousy your security actually is."

Ten minutes and a full body-cavity search later, Steve was escorted into an interrogation room. He didn't struggle or protest, just asked if he could have his suit back for the conversation.

Surprisingly, he could, though they kept his belt and the pouches that hung from it. No doubt they'd searched his suit thoroughly, but even so, Steve found the implied trust … endearing. He doubted it would've been the same in 2012, let alone 2023.

They left him to stew for a while - standard interrogation tactic. It was just too bad that Steve was very good at keeping himself mentally occupied.

Some time later, the door to the interrogation room opened and a man in a major's uniform came in and took a seat opposite him.

"I'm Major Davenport," he said. "Care to tell me why you showed up here out of the blue?"

"No, not really," Steve answered. "I told the guards at the gate that I'll talk to Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. I'm happy to wait until Stark gets back from taking his wife flowers and sauerkraut, however long that is, but they're the only ones I'll talk to."

"You got a lotta nerve, coming in here impersonating a national hero," Davenport said.

"As a point of order," Steve said conversationally, "I am Steve Rogers, not an impersonator."

"Impossible," Davenport declared. "Steve Rogers disappeared in 1945."

"More accurately, I guided the _Valkyrie_ into a suicide dive to prevent bombs being launched that would've targeted New York and a handful of other major American cities. I understand that Arctic ice covered the plane before anyone could get out there to look for it."

"You're pretty talkative for a guy who only wants to talk to two people."

"We're talking about history," Steve replied. "I have no problem talking about history with anyone. It's the present and the future I'll only talk to Peggy and Howard about."

Davenport's face turned an alarming shade of puce. "I oughta beat the truth out of you."

Steve felt his face falling into severe, even threatening, lines. "I wouldn't suggest you try."

Davenport shot out of his seat, sending the chair he'd been sitting in skidding across the floor. "Are you threatening me?"

Steve shook his head. Where did this guy learn to conduct an interrogation - and how did he get promoted to major in the first place?

Discretion, in this case, was certainly the better part of valor. Steve just sat back in his chair, his posture deliberately relaxed, and settled in to wait.

He didn't have to wait long before the door opened and Peggy strode into the room.

"That'll be all, Major, thank you," she said briskly.

Steve thought he'd been prepared to see her again. After all, it hadn't been that long since he'd been here before. But now, while she had a minor staring contest with Davenport, his breath caught in his chest once again.

He found his voice before the staring contest ended. "Give up, Major. I don't think Peggy has ever lost a battle of wills in her life."

That earned him a smile, though Peggy knew better than to look away from Davenport.

"I said, that'll be all, Major. If I have to repeat myself again, I will speak to your superiors about your ability to follow orders, let alone conduct an interview."

With a sound that was more a growl than a grunt, Davenport stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Peggy righted Davenport's chair and sat down across from Steve.

"Interview?" Steve said. "Not interrogation?"

"At the moment, it's an interview," Peggy said. "It could become an interrogation. Why did you want to speak to me or Howard Stark?"

"Because you're the only two I believe I can prove my identity to relatively easily."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Peggy asked, one eyebrow lifting elegantly.

"Because I remember the last words you said to me before I went into the ice," Steve said. "The Peggy Carter I knew wouldn't have shared something so personal with many people."

"And what do you remember?"

"I told you I needed a rain check for our date." Steve swallowed. Even now, the memory haunted him. "And you said it would be a week next Saturday - the Stork Club at eight o'clock on the dot, and I shouldn't be late. Do I need to continue?" he added, seeing her face paling.

"No." Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. "No, that won't be necessary. How did you know Howard left here with flowers and sauerkraut?"

"Because I saw him talking with my -" Steve broke off before _teammate_ left his mouth. That would only raise more questions he didn't want to answer. "My partner in crime."

"Leading neatly into why you're here. Would you care to explain that?"

"Not while anyone else is listening." Steve sat forward, meeting her gaze. "I can't stop people from knowing I'm back, but anything I tell you has to be more secure than Project Rebirth."

Peggy swallowed visibly. "I think we should wait for Howard to return."

"Probably a good idea."

It took a lot of explanations and even more refusals to answer certain questions before Peggy and Howard both were satisfied that he was who he said he was and that his mission was classified.

In the end, Steve had had to reveal that he'd time traveled, though he refused to explain the exact mechanism, other than it was tangentially related to research that had originated at SHIELD in the future. It was a small lie, and one he was completely comfortable sticking to.

Finally, hours after he'd arrived, Howard and Peggy exchanged looks that said more than words ever could.

Then Howard turned to him. "That guy - your partner in crime. Who is he?"

"That's another of the things I can't tell you."

Howard glared at him. "Can't? Or won't?"

"Either. Both." Then Steve shrugged. "I'd planned to stay a while, but if you'd rather I leave, then give me my belt back and I'll be on my way."

That wasn't his preferred choice, but he'd do it if he had to.

Another long conversation held in nothing but glances and micro expressions. Steve couldn't bring himself to be jealous of their closeness - not only had he been gone from their lives for a quarter century, but both of them were happily married. At least, he had no reason to believe their marriages were unhappy.

"I don't like it, Peg," Howard said finally. "But he's right - he's here on his terms. Even if we tried to keep him here against his will, we don't have the manpower to stop him if he decides to leave."

"I would try very hard not to kill them," Steve offered.

That made both Peggy and Howard laugh, however briefly.

"That's good to know," Peggy said finally. Then, "What is special about your belt?"

Steve debated just a moment before answering, choosing his words carefully. "It has my way to get back where I came from in it."

Howard snorted. "There's not a thing in that bag except empty air, son."

"Then you shouldn't have any problem giving it back to me." Steve schooled his expression to neutrality even as he offered a mental thank you to the sorceress back in 2012. She'd added something called a dimensional pocket to one of the pouches on his belt. Only he could access it, she said, and it would hold much more than just the Tesseract, the case, the SHIELD uniform he'd worn, and the Pym particles that would get him home.

Howard looked like he was about to refuse, but Peggy spoke before he could. "All right … Steve. We'll give you your belt and find a place for you to stay tonight. Then we can talk again in the morning."

"I'll be fine in the barracks," Steve said. "No need to go to any trouble."

Peggy's lips twitched. "You might be fine in the barracks, but I expect the barracks wouldn't be fine with you in them."

It took a minute for Steve to realize what she was saying, then he ducked his head. "Right. Sorry."

"He can stay with us," Howard said suddenly. "We have the room."

"I wouldn't want to put you out," Steve protested, though it was more for form's sake than anything else. He really hadn't planned past convincing Peggy and Howard that he was telling the truth so they'd accept the Tesseract back and stop asking questions.

"Nonsense," Howard said. "It's the least any of us owe you for stopping Hydra."

The words, sincere as they were, hit Steve with almost physical force.

He _hadn't_ stopped Hydra. Even now, Hydra was growing more and more new heads, right under Howard's and Peggy's noses. Who knew how his presence here would alter the sequence of events he remembered from his own timeline, even if he were to return to his own time right now?

More to the point, how could he let Peggy and Howard continue without warning them?

Steve turned that question over in his mind while he rode home with Howard, half-listening to Howard explaining the differences between 1945 and 1970, which weren't nearly as confusing as the differences between 1945 and 2011.

His mission seemed so simple - return the Infinity Stones to the moments each one was taken out of the past, then return to the time he'd left.

That was before he got here/now, to 1970, and a SHIELD that, while still infiltrated by Hydra, wasn't yet powerful enough as an organization for that infiltration to affect world events too much. If he told Howard and Peggy what was going on, they could stop Hydra now.

Doing so would create an alternate timeline, but Bruce had explained that returning the Space Stone to the moment it left the past would eliminate that timeline.

But he still had the Space Stone, the Tesseract, in his dimensional pocket. He could warn Howard and Peggy in the morning, return the Tesseract, and jump back to 2023 before lunch. Or …

Or, he could live in this timeline a while, long enough to see Hydra permanently destroyed, and _then_ jump back to 1970 to replace the Tesseract before returning to 2023.

"Are you even listening to me?" Howard's sharp question cut through Steve's thoughts.

Steve smiled sheepishly. "Sorry - just a lot on my mind."

"I can't even imagine," Howard said. "Waking up twenty-five years later… how did you get out of the ice?"

"I didn't say," Steve replied. Then, before Howard could ask another question Steve didn't want to answer, he said, "Could you call Peggy and ask her to come over tomorrow? There are things I need to tell you - both of you - that shouldn't be overheard."

Howard regarded him curiously for a moment before nodding. "Sure. I can do that - brunch, even though it's a weekday. Can you arrange that, Jarvis?"

Steve couldn't help a slight start at the name. As far as he knew, Tony had invented JARVIS, and Tony hadn't been born yet. So who was Howard talking to?

"Of course, sir," said the man who was driving them. "I shall call Director Carter as soon as we arrive home and extend the invitation."

"And order some clothes for Captain Rogers, too," Howard added. "Wearing just that suit's gonna get old real fast."

Steve started to protest, but he knew it would be a waste of breath. Neither Howard Stark nor Tony Stark were ones to let something drop once it had caught their attention. At the moment, Steve's wardrobe - or lack thereof - had caught Howard's attention. It would be best to just go along. For now, at least.

Brunch wasn't until ten, which left Steve with little to do until Peggy arrived.

He endured Jarvis taking his measurements so he'd know what size clothes to order and then sat in the living room making small talk with Maria Stark, beginning with an apology for dropping in unannounced which she graciously waved away as unnecessary.

"Howard's been searching for you since the end of the war," she said. "Putting you up for a night or ten isn't any trouble compared to that."

That was an odd way of phrasing it, but Steve accepted her assurance regardless of her phrasing, and managed not to embarrass himself talking to her otherwise.

At precisely ten, the doorbell echoed. Minutes later, Howard came in, followed by Peggy and another man that looked vaguely familiar to Steve, though he couldn't place the man's name. That he used a forearm crutch to walk didn't jog any memories either.

Peggy took care of introductions quickly. "Steve, this is Daniel Sousa. My husband."

So that's where he'd seen the man before - an old black-and-white photo clipped into the SSR file on Peggy that Nick Fury had given him.

He'd known she was married, so the introduction didn't throw him. Much. He rose and offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sousa."

"Daniel, please, Captain," Sousa replied. "And we've met before."

Another memory slotted into place. "The blockade."

Surprise flickered through Sousa's eyes. "And you visited me in the hospital tent before I was medevacced out."

"I did?" Steve searched his memory for confirmation. "I remember the medical tent. I'm sorry I don't remember you."

Sousa grinned. "Don't feel bad. I was on a lot of morphine at the time. Maybe you were just a hallucination."

"_Daniel._"

Peggy sounded scandalized, but Steve could only laugh. "Whichever I was, I'm glad I could help."

Sousa cocked his head to one side, and Steve felt thoroughly evaluated. Not judged, certainly not found wanting, but assessed.

"You hated it, didn't you?" Sousa asked. "The morale-building part."

"I didn't _hate_ it," Steve said. "I knew in my head it was the right thing to do, but in my heart … in my heart, I was still the sickly, shy kid who never knew what to say."

"You did it because it was the right thing to do," Sousa concluded.

Steve smiled. "It's the only reason to do anything."

"Including come here?" Peggy asked.

"Yes."

"Now, now," Maria Stark broke in. "No discussion of work at the table."

"It's a house rule," Howard said. "Enforced more viciously the further along she got."

"Technically," Steve said, "we're not at the table yet."

"Oh, you!" Maria gave him a mock glare. "We might as well be. Jarvis will be announcing -"

"Breakfast is served." Jarvis spoke from the doorway, and looked a little flustered when the group laughed.

Howard helped Maria up from her seat and led the way into the dining room. Steve hung back long enough to speak to Jarvis.

"Nothing personal," Steve said. "Just excellent timing on your part."

Jarvis seemed to relax the minutest bit. "Well. I do strive for excellence, sir."

Which almost made Steve laugh again, but that would only hurt the man's feelings. Still, it was easy to see where Tony had gotten the inspiration for his JARVIS.

Steve nodded and joined the others at the table. Howard sat at the head, Maria to his left, Peggy and her husband to his right. Steve took the seat next to Maria and offered a silent prayer of gratitude while they waited for their meals.

It was old-fashioned, he knew, but he'd never forget the Depression years, nor the years on the run after the Sokovia Accords were signed. A hot meal, a hot bath, a warm bed - these were everyday blessings, and Steve never forgot them.

He was slightly embarrassed to see that his plate held twice the amount of sausage and eggs as anyone else's.

"I told them about your calorie requirements after the serum," Howard said.

"Thank you," Steve replied, manners once again saving him from not knowing what to say. "I'm surprised you remembered."

Howard waved the comment aside, and before the silence could become uncomfortable, said, "You heard about the Dodgers, right?"

"I don't know how to feel about that," Steve admitted. "Am I supposed to root for the Yankees now? That feels like a betrayal."

"You could still root for the Dodgers," Sousa said. "L.A. isn't that bad."

Sousa shared a smile with Peggy, and Steve was surprised not to feel jealous of their obviously close relationship.

Then he brought himself back to the conversation. "No, it's just on the other side of the country."

Conversation flowed easily after that, and it wasn't long before breakfast was over.

"Well," Maria said. "I do believe that's my cue to let you all get down to business."

She started to rise, and Steve automatically stood, offering her his hand.

She thanked him with a smile and bussed a kiss on Howard's cheek before leaving the room.

Jarvis refilled their coffee cups silently before he, too, left the room.

"All right," Howard began, "what's so important you wanted to talk to us away from Lehigh?"

Steve couldn't help the glance he shot toward Sousa. He liked the man, but he couldn't let his feelings cloud his judgment.

"Daniel's been with SHIELD and the SSR before that since he was discharged," Peggy said. "There's very little I know that he doesn't know."

"I don't mean to paint too dark a picture," Steve said, "but this must stay with us. A lot of people are in danger and don't even know it."

"That sounds pretty dark," Howard pointed out.

"It's an indirect danger," Steve said. "But still a danger."

"I get it," Sousa said. "Your reluctance to trust me. But I gave - I thought I gave everything in service to my country. I would have given everything if you hadn't been there that day. If there's a danger to my country, my fellow citizens, or especially to my wife and kids, I promise you I will do everything I can to help you wipe it out."

The conviction in Sousa's tone and expression convinced Steve, and he blew out a breath. "Okay. I assume you all are familiar with Operation Paperclip?"

"Of course," Peggy said. "We brought German scientists and engineers to America, to help us retain our military advantage over the Soviets."

"It's supposed to be secret, though," Howard said. "I know about it because some of them came to work for me. How do you know about it?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. Steve met his gaze squarely and said, "I came out of the ice in 2011. A lot of what happened in the war had been declassified by then."

There was a long silence before Peggy managed to speak. Even when she did, her voice was almost a whisper. "How is that possible?"

"I don't understand the science enough to explain it," Steve said. "And even if I did, I probably shouldn't."

Howard nodded agreement. "You don't want to change the future too much."

Steve let the explanation stand, except, "I'm already changing more than I should, but … I knew both of you -" he glanced between Peggy and Howard -"pretty well, and I know neither one of you would want to let this go."

"What?" Peggy asked. "What can't you let go?"

There was no way to put it gently, so Steve didn't try. "Thanks to Operation Paperclip, and probably other programs like it, Hydra still survives. It incubated itself in the SSR and is growing like a cancer within SHIELD."

Steve would be hard-pressed to decide whether that announcement or the one about when he'd come out of the ice was a bigger shock to his listeners.

Sousa spoke first. "Because we accepted them as they were. No loyalty tests, maybe not even much follow-up after they were hired."

"Leopards don't change their spots," Peggy murmured. Then she looked up at him. "How do you know?"

Steve hated to be the one to tell her that her life's work had been for nothing, but he would only ever be honest with her.

"Because a few years after I came out of the ice, Hydra agents within SHIELD were set to do something so horrible that the only choice was to destroy SHIELD to get to them."

Peggy flinched, but only nodded her understanding.

"So what do we do about it?" Howard asked. "I mean, you do plan to do something about it, right? Otherwise why tell us?"

"The only thing we can do if SHIELD is to survive," Steve said.

Sousa cut him off. "Maybe it shouldn't, if what you say is true. Sorry, Peg, but it had to be said."

"It did," Steve agreed. "But for all that there were Hydra agents within SHIELD, the agency itself had a good start, and a lot of good agents."

"You think it can be saved?" Peggy asked.

"I do. It's going to be a lot of long hours of work, but I think we can save SHIELD."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Howard demanded. "Let's get started!"


End file.
